Hostage to Fortune
by topazchild
Summary: A witchfinder's device leaves Merlin unable to function, and the prince finds he must ask for help in order to save his friend's life.
1. Chapter 1

Hostage to Fortune

Arthur noticed with a detached sense of pride that his hand did not shake. He managed to set his wine glass back on the table without spilling a drop. His father and several members of the high council were discussing the placement of "sorcerer-detecting" equipment around the castle with a man named Tywysog, someone whom the prince had never seen before today. Tywysog was a tall, beefy man with a huge gut, bristly sideburns, and a booming voice which Arthur found grating. Beside him sat his assistant, a gaunt, mostly silent man with all the animation of a dead man and all the charm of a turnip. One claw-like hand rested atop the lid of a small nondescript box. The man seemed to be actively sucking all the oxygen out of the room.

"My assistant and I have placed the Dyfais inside wall sconces, urns, and behind mirrors, tapestries, statues all through the castle," Tywysog said.

_Where was Merlin? _the prince thought.

"Excellent!" the king enthused. "How many are we talking about?"

"I thought ten to start," the witchfinder replied.

_Ten to start? Are you freakin' kidding me? _

"That's all I brought with me," Tywysog continued. "We can always add more later." The king nodded in agreement.

_Where would Merlin be now? _The room was starting to feel claustrophobic which was strange. It was a large room. _Let's see. It was mid-afternoon. Merlin should have finished all the chores for himself (the prince) and was possibly running errands for Gaius, maybe gathering herbs or making deliveries in the lower town. _

"What happens when the device - the, uh, Dyfais - detects a sorcerer?" Arthur asked, in as bored a tone as he could manage.

"Incapacitating pain, Sire," the man replied, pleased with this show of interest from the prince. "The individual falls to the ground, unable even to walk. The more powerful the sorcerer, the more excruciating the pain."

_Please don't be inside the castle, Merlin. _"Is this condition, uh, permanent?" the prince asked.

"As long as the sorcerer is near the Dyfais, it continues. Once they have been carried away by your guards, the pain should abate, and they will slowly regain strength. They should be recovered enough to walk to their execution the following morning." This last with a chuckle.

Arthur's throat felt dry and scratchy; a rock seemed to have lodged itself in the middle of his chest. His hand slid down to where his sword would be if he was wearing one. No. He glanced longingly toward the door where Sir Leon and Percival were standing, both wearing their swords. Looking again at the witchfinder, he indulged himself in a brief fantasy of plunging his sword into the middle of the man's fat gut. He took another healthy swig of his wine. He seriously needed to get out of this meeting and out of this room. What excuse could he use? He glanced at his father. The king and Tywysog were conversing, neither one looking at him. He still felt eyes on him and looked over to see the assistant watching him with a dead-man stare, his eyes flat and opaque.

"Oh, and one more thing," Tywysog was saying.

_There's more? How much worse is this going to get? _He probably shouldn't have asked.

The man turned to the king. "I didn't mention this earlier, Sire, but you're going to appreciate this feature. A small blue mark -" Here he held his thumb and index finger about an inch and a half apart. "- will appear on the sorcerer's body for easy identification in the event that someone has managed to assist them in escaping."

_Oh. Joy. _Arthur drained the last of his wine. He really needed something stronger. He paused uneasily. There was something else troubling his mind. Like that wasn't enough, right? What was it? He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to clear his mind. The creepy assistant. He opened his eyes and looked at the loathsome man and then down at the little box. _The box. _What was it for?

"Tywysog," Arthur said, not caring that he was interrupting the man mid-sentence. "I notice your assistant is holding a box." He looked at the witchfinder inquiringly.

"Oh, that's right, Arthur," his father said. "I forgot that you didn't attend the earlier meeting several days ago. Tell him about the box, Tywysog."

"Gladly, Sire. The box contains a gemstone that lights up when one of the devices has been tripped. An alarm, if you will." He reached over and took it away from his assistant. "It will glow red." He turned the box away from himself and flipped the lid open toward the prince and the council members. There was a loud gasp in the room. Tywysog tilted the box back. The gemstone was glowing red.

**a/n: This loosely follows my previous story, "Rising Sun," and contains a couple of original characters from that story. Arthur has discovered that Merlin has magic, but the warlock does not yet realize this. **


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: A couple of reviewers of a previous story, "Black Opal," said they liked my original character of Derek, palace guard, so I've brought him back for another story.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.**

**Please read and review. Thanks.**

Chapter Two

Ten Minutes Earlier

Merlin was returning from having dropped off some serving platters in the kitchen when he passed a wall sconce. Pain came from out of nowhere, searing through his body, exploding in his mind. His limbs felt suddenly without substance - boneless - and he fell. There was no longer coherent thought in his mind, only a need to escape the agony. He made little panting grunts like a wounded animal, and his long fingers pulled at his clothing.

Back to the Meeting with King Uther

"One of the devices has been tripped?" the king asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"It would appear so, your highness," Tywysog replied. "Whoever has done so will be incapacitated until he or she is removed from the vicinity of the Dyfais. It should be easy for your - "

"Arthur," the king said, interrupting.

"On it, father," the prince said, rising to his feet and hurrying over to where Sir Leon and Percival stood. His brain kicked into high gear and thoughts chased each other through his mind. He needed to keep the knights away from the areas of the castle Merlin would most likely be. The prince briefly sketched out the situation to Sir Leon, leaving out the part about the sorcerer being helpless and unable to walk. He was too far away for his father to overhear him, but he kept his voice down as a precaution.

"There's a strong possibility he or she may have left the castle already. We'll need at least two knights to search the stables, and I want men dispatched to all roads leading out of Camelot."

"Yes, Sire," Sir Leon said, "and how many inside castle walls?"

Arthur pretended to think. "We'll need the empty guest rooms searched, for a start." _Where_ _else would Merlin not be? _Arthur reeled off a few more rooms and corridors he thought unlikely. "I will search my own chambers, of course. Not that anyone would be foolish enough to hide there," he said, forcing a laugh. "Oh, and send Lancelot to me."

Sir Leon looked at him, curiously. "He's not here."

"Well, send someone to find him," the prince replied, an edge to his voice. "Send Elyan."

"Yes, Sire." The prince seemed to be operating under considerable stress, Sir Leon thought. He knew the king put a lot of pressure on his son and supposed that to be the case.

Moments later all three men had hastily left, Arthur racing to check the most obvious locations. He briefly considered and rejected Gaius' chambers and Merlin's tiny room. Tywysog would not have placed any of the devices there. Still Gaius might know where his ward was. He rounded a corner and saw Guinevere running toward him, distraught, her long hair flying behind her.

"Arthur! Arthur!"

The prince caught at her. "Shh, Guinevere. Keep your voice down. Is it Merlin?"

"Yes," she said, wondering how he knew. "Something has happened - I don't - he's not bleeding."

"Show me where he is, and then I'll need you to fetch Gaius. Tell him to come to my room."

His servant was lying under a wall sconce. The prince glanced at it briefly then wasted no time either trying to talk to or examine him. He grabbed him and, throwing him across his shoulder, hurried out of the immediate vicinity. Guinevere walked in haste beside him. They could both hear Merlin's agonized breathing.

"What's happened to him?" Guinevere asked, distressed.

"I don't have time to explain. Tell Gaius to bring a sedative. The most powerful one he has. And say nothing - _nothing_ - to anyone else."

"I won't. I promise, Arthur." She hurried off to find the physician.

Arthur turned the last corner and cursed under his breath. How could he have forgotten the two guards beside his door? Not a problem he told himself. He could just order them elsewhere.

"Guards! There's a sorcerer on the premises! My servant has been attacked. Check all outside doors into the castle. Now!"

One of the guards immediately hurried off to obey while the second held the door open for him. Derek allowed the door to close while he stood in the hall thinking. There were two things he knew for a near certainty. One: the only sorcerer in the entire castle was the one Arthur was carrying over his shoulder, and two: the prince was trying to get rid of him (Derek). He came to a decision. He was going to find out what was going on even if the prince had him tossed out of Camelot on his ear. He owed Merlin that much.

The prince pulled Merlin off his shoulder and dropped him onto the bed. The dark-haired young man curled into a fetal position, making little whimpering sounds, his breath coming in quick little pants. His arms were wrapped around his body hugging himself. Arthur pried loose first one then the other of his hands, checking both back and palm, looking for the tell-tale blue mark. Nothing. He looked at his face, tilting him back slightly to check both sides. Again no mark. Arthur started breathing easier. Nothing visible then.

"Here. Maybe this will help." The blonde-haired prince grabbed one of the pillows and pulling Merlin's arm away from his ribs, pressed it against his stomach. Arthur stood still, thinking. Wasn't Merlin supposed to start feeling better once he was away from that infernal device? _The more powerful the sorcerer, the more excruciating the pain, _the man had said. If that was true, Arthur thought, watching him, he must have the most powerful sorcerer in the known world as his personal servant.

Arthur heard the door open and close. "Gaius? Did you bring -?" He turned and his voice trailed off. It was one of the guards. Already on edge, his whole body went tense. Why had the man disobeyed a direct order? He started to look wildly around the room for his sword when he recognized the man. Derek. One of the two guards from the day of the basilisk attack. The other man had died. He watched the approach of the tall, broad-shouldered man in wary silence.

"Forgive me, Sire." Derek held his hands up in a placating motion. "Merlin saved my life once. I must know how badly he's hurt."

Arthur studied the man for a moment, remembering how Derek had requested an extended leave from his captain after the incident with the basilisk. The king had been demanding answers. Someone had left the most lethal of creatures in his son's chambers - . Pieces of a puzzle starting fitting together in the prince's mind. He looked down at his servant.

"Merlin killed the basilisk."

"Yes," Derek replied, softly. "And he's the sorcerer everyone is looking for, isn't he?"

Arthur nodded. He felt suddenly very tired, and the wine he had drunk earlier was making him drowsy. He crawled up to sit on the bed and pulled Merlin, pillow and all, closer.

"Let Gaius in when he comes," Arthur said, wearily.

"Yes, Sire." Derek started to walk toward the door then turned. "How badly is he hurt?"

"He'll be all right." _All I have to do is locate nine more Dyfais_.

**a/n: Yes, I know that Gaius has magic also, but I am not including that in this particular story. Morgana is visiting elsewhere. :-) **


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter Three

Derek stood a few feet from the bed, all but forgotten by the distracted prince. The latter had seemed vastly relieved when the physician had arrived a short time earlier. The two of them had removed Merlin's jacket, and Arthur was holding his servant, shoulder against his chest, while Gaius prepared to give him a sedative. The pain seemed to have subsided to a manageable level, and the dark-haired young man was regaining some of his strength, although he had yet to speak.

"Merlin, look at me," Gaius said. He lifted his chin with one hand. The warlock opened blue eyes cloudy with pain. "I need you to swallow this. It will alleviate the pain you're still feeling."

"'Kay."

Gaius gave him the sedative, something he regretted doing a short time later.

Arthur laid his friend back down on the bed then looked up at the guard, seeming to suddenly remember his presence. "Derek, I don't think my father will be coming to my room, but there's a chance that one or more of the knights might. Would you recognize Lancelot on sight?"

"Yes, sire."

"He is the _only_ person I want admitted to this room. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire." (uneasy pause) "If your - if the king should - " His voice trailed off.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Arthur was desperately hoping that occasion wouldn't arise.

Derek nodded and exited the room to stand guard.

The flaxen-haired prince watched the physician checking for broken bones as Merlin's breathing evened out, and his eyelids became too heavy to hold open.

"I don't think you'll find any obvious injury, Gaius. That's not what happened," the prince said.

"What _did_ happen, Arthur?" Gaius pushed up Merlin's shirt and saw a blue mark on his stomach. "He's got a bruise, albeit a small one."

"That's not a bruise," Arthur replied, looking.

Gaius swallowed a sarcastic remark asking if the prince was practicing medicine now.

"It's an identifying mark for sorcerers." Arthur went on to explain to the horrified physician about the Dyfais and its immobilizing effect on those who use magic.

"Arthur, you know," Gaius stated, uncomfortably aware that he himself had left Merlin unable to defend himself for the next few hours.

"I've known for a while, and we can't have this conversation right now."

Gaius took a few minutes to digest this rather startlingly bit of news. "Can you have one of your men carry Merlin back to his room, sire?"

"No can do," Arthur replied, "for several reasons. The main one is - I neglected to mention this earlier - there are ten Dyfais, and I only know the location of one of them."

"Ten?" the physician muttered to himself.

"The other reason," Arthur continued, "is that the knights are actively searching the castle and surrounding town for whoever tripped the device."

Gaius groaned and sank back into a chair. "We need to come up with a solution and fast. You can't continue to hide Merlin in your room."

"I'm open to suggestions, Gaius."

Later

Arthur was sitting up, leaning back in his bed, with his eyes closed. Although he appeared to be asleep, his mind was busy dealing with the current problem of getting Merlin temporarily out of Camelot. That would free up more time for Gaius or himself to think up a more permanent solution. The prince was not above inventing an imaginary emergency to get himself and his servant away from the castle. He ran down a list of possibilities: a village being attacked? By, hmm, Saxon raiders - or maybe a gryphon. The latter was always good or had he overused it in the past? He could get creative and make up a monster. Of course, there was always the old stand-by - bandits. They could be - um - attacking travelers.

Arthur opened his eyes. "I'm dining with my father this evening," he said to Gaius, still sitting by the bed. "Will Merlin be all right alone?" He nudged his slumbering servant with his foot.

"Yes, sire. He should sleep through the night. I need to go treat a patient with sweating sickness, but I'll come back by to check on him."

"Good." Arthur got off the bed, and walking over to the door, told Derek to come in. (The other guard had returned earlier and remained in the corridor.) Knowing that he would need Derek's help, the prince explained the situation in detail. He told him the location of the wall sconce, the one that hid the Dyfais that his servant had tripped. "I need you to remove the Dyfais and destroy it elsewhere. Somewhere away from here."

"No!" Gaius said, more sharply than he intended. "You can't do that."

"Why is that, Gaius?" Arthur asked, looking a bit annoyed. _Why did everything have to get complicated? _

"I'm sorry, sire," the physician said. "I've been giving this some thought. You can't just locate and remove the devices."

"Because - ?"

"First off, it will further arouse suspicions, and, secondly, your father will just have them replaced, possibly at different locations."

"Which would leave us worse off." The volatile prince was starting to feel cornered and closed in, which boded ill for someone down the line.

"Quite a bit, yes."

"If I might make a suggestion, sire?" Derek asked, diffidently.

"By all means," Arthur said, frustrated and badly wanting to break something.

"We could locate and temporarily remove all the devices between here and Merlin's room. Long enough to get him out of here."

Arthur nodded. "Not a permanent solution but - short term - it's workable. And it will free Merlin from being a virtual prisoner in my room."

"Arthur, did this - Tywysog, was it? - did he mention whether or not the blue mark would fade?" Gaius asked, changing the subject.

"I don't think so, no."

"Blue mark?" Derek asked, curiously.

Gaius moved closer to the bed. He pushed the warlock's arm off his stomach and raised his shirt. "This mark. It identifies Merlin as a sorcerer."

Derek sucked in his breath. "Not good," he muttered.

"Okay, Derek," the prince said, "we're going to go with your suggestion. Remove all the Dyfais between here and Merlin's room. Look inside urns, and behind tapestries, mirrors, and statues. Don't forget the one in the wall sconce. I'm going to be with my father for the next hour or so, but there is still going to be some risk involved here. Make sure no one sees you. _Do_ _not bring them into this room_. Understood? Nowhere near Merlin."

The broad-shouldered guard nodded. "Understood, sire."

"Take them - oh, I don't know - a different corridor - some room not being used. Hide them for now."

"Derek," Gaius said, on a thought. "You don't have magic, do you?"

Arthur looked startled. "Oh, I forgot to ask that."

Derek smiled at them. "No, I don't."


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter Four

Before leaving to dine with his father and several others, Arthur debated telling the remaining guard that Merlin was not to leave the room under any circumstance. However he decided it was unlikely that his friend would wake before his return, and the less said the better.

Later, Arthur was to have wished that he had inquired about the guest list beforehand; Tywysog and his nasty assistant were both in attendance, along with several council elders. The prince had learned that the assistant's name was Mordwywr (not that he cared). The predominant topic of conversation, introduced by Tywysog, was the failure of the knights and, by extension, himself, to locate the sorcerer. Uther, long familiar with his son's short fuse, attempted a diplomatic change of topic. It was unfortunate and unintentional that the topic he chose only made matters worse.

"Where's your servant this evening?" the king asked, noticing that young man's absence.

His father usually paid as much attention to servants as he did to the furniture. And he picked _now_ to suddenly notice? Before the prince could reply, Tywysog leaned forward intently. "Your servant is missing?"

"Not at all," Arthur replied, in as casual a tone as he could manage. "Gaius, our court physician, requested his assistance for the evening. I gave my permission."

Several of the elders exchanged glances; the prince rarely explained himself.

Tywysog was nothing if not tenacious. He turned to the king. "Perhaps under the circumstance, your highness, someone should be sent to check on this person's whereabouts."

The king's eyes narrowed, and several of the elders looked disapprovingly at the witchfinder. The man had clearly overstepped himself.

"Possibly I was unclear - ," the prince began, in a deadly voice.

The king hastily intervened. "My son's servant shares quarters with our physician and frequently assists him. Nothing sinister."

"No offense intended," Tywysog blustered. "You can't be too careful, you know."

Arthur turned his head to meet the vulture-like stare from Mordwywr's opaque eyes. This wasn't over, the prince was nearly certain, and someone was going to end up dead.

Much Later

Arthur slept badly that night, worrying about the possibility of Tywysog and Mordwywr going to check on Merlin's whereabouts themselves. He had pulled the raven-haired young man over to the right-hand side of the bed. (Arthur always slept on the left.) He was not keen to share a bed with the warlock, but the entire castle was booby-trapped, and he wasn't going to dump him on the floor. Having another bed dragged in was completely out of the question, and _he_ sure as hell wasn't sleeping on the floor. The boy mumbled a few unintelligible words but didn't wake. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour, the prince himself finally fell asleep around midnight.

Merlin woke just before dawn, confused and disoriented. Where was he? The bed he slept on was too soft, warm, and comfortable to be his own. His fingers counted three thick blankets piled on top of him. Definitely not his bed.

"_Fromum feohgiftum on faeder bearme." _The blue orb of light illuminated the large room. He was in Arthur's room with - yikes! - the blonde-haired prince lying asleep beside him. He hastily extinguished the light. Had Arthur seen it? He thought his eyes had been closed. He listened with relief to the prince's even breathing. What happened yesterday? He remembered terrible pain, more intense than anything he'd ever felt before. He thought then that he'd fallen. Someone had carried him here, possibly the prince himself. The last thing he remembered was Gaius talking to him then giving him something, most likely a sleeping draught.

Merlin lay until first light then got out of bed as quietly as he could, looking around for his boots and jacket. He stumbled over one of his boots and found his jacket thrown over the back of a chair. He didn't think he'd been wearing a neckerchief. He needed to go fetch Arthur's breakfast from the kitchen. Just thinking about food made him realize how ravenously hungry he was. He hadn't eaten since noon of the previous day.

Derek was just arriving for his shift when he saw the warlock exiting the room further down the corridor and head off in the opposite direction. Toward the kitchen. _Where the hell was the prince? _He knew Merlin would pass by a large tapestry - one that he (Derek) hadn't checked behind - if he kept going in that direction. Neither of the two guards on either side of the prince's door had made a move to stop him. No one had told them to. Derek sprinted down the corridor.

"Merlin, you can't be out here. You must stay in the room. Where is Prince Arthur? Is he sleeping?" Derek had caught up with the dark-haired young man and, grabbing his arm, had pulled him to a halt.

Merlin looked uncertain, not sure what was going on. "Yes, he's still in bed. I need to get his breakfast - ."

"I need you to trust me," Derek began, when he caught movement in his peripheral vision. Two men had entered the end of the corridor. One was a tall man with an enormous potbelly and bushy sideburns; the other was a gaunt-looking man in a black coat. He was fairly sure he had not seen either man before, but he could guess at their identity: the witchfinder and his assistant. _Oh, crap_.

xxxxxxxx

It took a while for the sound of the door opening and closing to filter through Arthur's sleep-befuddled brain. He opened cerulean blue eyes. Merlin was no longer lying asleep beside him. He hurriedly sat up and scanned the room. "Merlin? Merlin!" Not in the room. He was flippin' not in the ROOM. There were guards at the door. He came to the panicked realization that he had neglected to warn the guards that his servant was not to leave this room without his knowledge and consent. He swore. If Merlin died because of his carelessness - .

Seconds later, Arthur was standing in the corridor in stocking feet. He saw Tywysog and Mordwywr approaching from the left and Derek and Merlin halted down the corridor on the right. Arthur forced himself to walk calmly toward the latter two, hoping in the meantime that the witchfinder would not hail him.

"Just this once, Merlin, I need you to do as you're told," the prince said, upon reaching his servant. "Your life may depend upon it." Arthur kept his voice down. He could see Tywysog and his assistant approaching from the corner of his eye.

"All right, Arthur." The warlock looked into the prince's eyes and saw something there he had never expected to see. Fear. When was Arthur ever afraid? With a little shock, he realized the fear was for him.

"I need you to go with Derek back into my room. I'll explain everything - ."

"Prince Arthur!" the witchfinder hailed him in his booming voice. "I need to speak with you, your highness." His eyes slid over Derek, then settled on the dark-haired young man beside him. "And who might you be?"

"Merely a servant," the prince answered coldly, "no one that would concern you. And I am unable to speak with you now." The blonde-haired young man gripped Merlin by the upper arm, his fingers digging in. To Merlin: "You _will_ finish your chores this time, and you will not leave until I have personally approved your work. Is that understood?"

Merlin dropped his eyes in a submissive gesture. "Yes, sire."

"Is this your manservant that went missing - ?" Tywysog began. "I have some questions."

"As I explained to you last evening, he was never missing," the prince said in a lethal-sounding voice.

"The king assured me I would get complete cooperation," the witchfinder complained, seemingly oblivious to the very real peril he was in.

_How dense is this guy? _Merlin wondered in amazement. Feeling the eyes of the gaunt man upon him, he looked up. The gimlet-eyed stare caused a _frisson_ of fear to ripple down his spine. These were the people responsible for the terrible pain he felt yesterday. And he knew what they were.

"Derek. Your sword," the prince said, holding out his right hand. The broad-shouldered guard wordlessly removed his sword from its scabbard and held it out to Arthur who gripped it.

"This is intolerable," the witchfinder sputtered and fumed. His assistant, possibly more alert to the danger in which the pair of them stood, gave the man a shove in the opposite direction.

"We need to leave now."

"This is an outrage!" Tywysog continued to insist, as he joined his assistant in retreating down the corridor.

The golden-haired prince very carefully returned the sword to Derek. The three of them stood there in silence for several long minutes. _Arthur knows I have magic_, Merlin thought, _and he's trying to save me anyway_.


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter Five

The Prince's Chambers, forty minutes later

Arthur, aware that Merlin hadn't eaten since noon of the previous day, had ordered enough food for two. Gaius and a few minutes later, Lancelot, had joined them and both had been told to sit. Derek was standing, giving a report.

"I located and temporarily removed three of the devices between here and Gaius' chambers, sire. I checked behind every tapestry, mirror, and wall sconce I could find." Derek informed the prince where he'd hidden them.

"Arthur," Gaius contributed, "it might be possible to disable the devices before we replace them on the wall."

Merlin paused in the act of stuffing his face to cast a spell. _Pegasus, beride pa heofonum. _A small silvery mare materialized on the table in front of him. Using his fingers he sketched out opalescent wings with the shifting rainbow hues of a soap bubble, so reminiscent of Ouranos that he experienced a sharp pang in his chest. Several moments of intense longing to see the mist-colored Pegasus again filled him with a sense of loss but the elves had the keeping of her. He sighed deeply, then, raising his hand, he gave the air behind it a gentle push. The ethereal creature galloped forward a few paces then glided delicately into the air. She flew the length of the table to dissipate in front of the bemused prince.

_He's been doing this under my nose for years_, Arthur told himself in amazement. _How could I have missed this? He spends as much time in my company as he does with his guardian_.

"Merlin," the prince said, "I wasn't able to get to you fast enough yesterday to prevent you getting hurt. I'm sorry. The two men in the corridor earlier - . "

"I know what they are, Arthur." The warlock seemed curiously detached. The prince watched as his friend's blue eyes changed color, looking like flecks of gold in a shallow river. Merlin threw both of his hands into the air and dozens of colorful butterflies flew upward like sparks from a fire and flitted over the table.

Arthur had an arrested look in his eyes. "King Alined's jester - what was his name - ?"

"Trickler," Gaius and Merlin answered simultaneously.

"Trickler. He was using magic?"

"Oh, yeah," Merlin smirked. "In plain sight of kings and representatives from the five kingdoms."

"Fascinating," the prince said. "I need you to focus now, Merlin. This is important."

"Okay."

"You have a small blue mark here." Arthur pointed to its approximate location on his own stomach. The warlock raised his shirt and looked apprehensively at the mark. "And, no, it's not a bruise. It's an identifying mark for a sorcerer. The only people who have seen it are the people in this room."

The dark-haired young man looked uneasily at Gaius. "Is it permanent?"

"I don't know," Gaius said, shaking his head.

Arthur belatedly noticed that the broad-shouldered guard was still standing. "Sit down, Derek." The prince then regarded his servant for a few moments in silence. He touched his neck. "You healed the knife wound on my neck, didn't you, Merlin? While I was asleep."

"Yeah, it was careless of me. Of course, you were going to notice that it healed too fast."

"I wondered." Small smile. He straightened in his chair and explained to both Merlin and Lancelot about the multiple Dyfais hidden all through the castle and the small box that functioned as an alarm. "Gaius?" He nodded at the physician.

"I'm seeing two choices here, sire. We either need to locate all the devices, render them harmless and replace them, or give your father a reason to order them removed."

"A malfunction of some kind?" Lancelot said, speaking for the first time.

"Hmm," Gaius said, studying his raven-haired ward. "That might be doable."

Merlin, not listening, was looking down the table at the blonde-haired prince. "How long have you known I have magic, Arthur?"

"Since the quest to free the firebird."

"That's been a while," Merlin said. He exchanged glances with Lancelot.

The prince gave him an up-from-under look. "You're not the only one who can keep a secret," he said, gravely.


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter Six

The Prince's Chambers, as before

Arthur wanted to take Merlin and Lancelot and a handful of knights and just leave for a while. Gaius convinced him it was a bad idea. The witchfinder was already suspicious. After some discussion, it was decided that Merlin should serve Arthur at the evening meal. A number of guests were expected, and it would allay suspicion. This would give Derek and Lancelot the better part of the day to locate and temporarily remove any Dyfais from the large room.

Apparently no one bothered to ask the warlock in question about this plan. Merlin was terrified about being in the same room as the witchfinder, and what if Derek missed one of the devices? "Don't make me do this, Arthur," the dark-haired young man entreated. The prince looked at Gaius.

The physician was surprisingly unsympathetic. "It's necessary, Merlin. You can do this," Gaius said, sternly. "I suspect the devices will be malfunctioning," he added, with a chuckle. To Derek and Lancelot: "That's a large room. There are probably at least two devices. You must tell Merlin exactly where you found them for my plan to work."

Dining Hall, evening

Guests were standing around in scattered groups talking, prior to being seated. Arthur noted the presence of Lord Torr, one of his father's oldest friends. Would the noble present any problems? He thought not. It had been a while since the quest to free the firebird, and Lionel had not chosen to betray Merlin in that length of time. Beside Lionel stood his son, Justin. The latter was mostly listening as his father talked to the king. Who else was here? The prince scanned the room. He saw Geoffrey of Monmouth and a number of high-ranking nobles. Where were the witchfinder and his assistant? Turning, he saw the pair of them just entering the room. He was determined not to sit by either one of them. On the thought, he hurried over to where Justin was standing and grabbed him by the arm.

"Justin," the prince said, in an imperative manner, "Sit by me at dinner." It was not a request.

"Of course, Arthur," Justin said, agreeably.

Lord Torr looked curiously at Arthur, then noted the arrival of Tywysog and his nasty assistant, Mordwywr. Understanding dawned in his face. This evening looked to be another of Uther's unexpectedly entertaining dinners, although he doubted that anything could ever top the appearance of the goddess' daughter.

Sometime later after the king and his guests were seated and being served, Lord Torr looked across the table and saw Merlin standing beside Arthur's chair, pouring wine in his goblet. He was puzzled and a bit alarmed by the warlock's presence. It was his understanding that two of the witchfinder's devices were hidden in this room. Surely the crown prince was aware that - wait - he looked closely at Merlin. The boy seemed nervous but not in pain. As if aware of his thoughts, the prince turned his head and looked at him. Lionel gave a slight nod in Merlin's direction and looked a question at the prince. Arthur gripped his friend's lower arm for a moment which Lionel correctly interpreted as "we've got the situation under control."

Further down the table, Tywysog and Mordwywr were also watching the dark-haired servant of the crown prince and talking between themselves. It seems they were wrong. They cast several glances at a large statue on one side of the room and, turning in their seats, eyed an intricately sewn tapestry of a medieval hunt behind them.

The king and his guests were finishing up the main course when Lord Torr, feeling some shift in the room's atmosphere, looked up and across at the large tapestry on the far wall. Red mist was flowing into the room coalescing into a red dragon in all its terrifying splendor. At first it moved in silence, its wings unfolding, stretching out to their fullest length. Arthur and Justin, following the noble's gaze, turned in their chairs and watched. The prince held his fist to his mouth hiding a smile.

"Sir Leon!" the king bellowed. "Your men!"

The three knights guarding the entrance, Leon, Percival, and Elyan, drew their swords and rushed further into the room. They stood there awkwardly. They had no answer to sorcery.

Furious, King Uther looked to his right where his son still sat. "Arthur! Do something!"

"Do what exactly, Father?"

Lord Torr cast a surreptitious look around the room. Where was Merlin? He was no longer standing between his son and the crown prince and hadn't been for some time. He thought the boy was standing behind a large pillar, hidden from view. The horrified whispers in the room rose to a loud crescendo of sound. The guests seated across from him were looking at something _behind _him. He turned in his chair. White mist was flowing from behind a statue of a long-dead king. Constantine, he thought, inconsequentially. Like its counterpart opposite, the mist formed itself into a large fearsome dragon, this one white in color. The creature unfolded its wings in turn and, throwing up its head, let loose a loud, primal scream in challenge. The scream was answered by the red dragon and matched almost in volume by a number of dinner guests, several of whom then proceeded to drop to their knees and crawl beneath the long table.

"The dragons beneath Dinas Emrys," Geoffrey said, with scholarly interest. The historian was seated to Lord Torr's left.

"Shall we place a wager on which one wins?" Lionel asked, his lips twitching.

"The red dragon wins, of course," Geoffrey replied, seriously. "Remember Vortigern? The white dragon is the Saxons."

The two dragons screeched a further challenge to each other and flew together in mortal combat over the dinner table. Several of the dinner guests raced screaming for the door. Lord Torr made a mental note to himself never to miss one of Uther's dinner parties if he could avoid it.

An instant later, both dragons vanished, dissolved into swirling red and white bands of mist. Several of the guests cowering under the table peered cautiously out.

"I believe it's safe now to come out," Lord Torr told them in a bland tone.

Arthur turned to the king. "Father, weren't the two Dyfais in this room placed behind the statue and the tapestry?" he asked, as if he just thought of it.

Uther stared thunderstruck at his son, then further down the table at the horrified two men. Tywysog and Mordwywr sprang hastily to their feet, wildly contemplating a rush for the door.

"Sir Leon!" the king commanded, "Arrest those men!"

The three knights, happy to be able to do _something_, dragged the loudly protesting men off.

Lord Torr, meanwhile, was remembering how the expenditure of massive amounts of magical energy left the warlock depleted and weak. What they had all just witnessed - magic on a grand scale - had undoubtedly left the young man enervated. The noble had grown fond of Merlin on their journey to Drachenfels and was worried for him. He looked across the table at Justin. His son was too far away for a hasty tête-à-tête. "Justin," he said, chosing his words carefully, "You need to help Arthur."

Justin looked at him gravely. "I will, father."

Uther, glancing at his own son seated unharmed beside him, thought the remark a bit odd.

A hastily convened meeting between the king, several of his nobles, and the high council took place shortly thereafter. It should be noted that Lord Torr recommended the immediate removal and destruction of the Dyfais. The king wholeheartedly agreed.

Arthur, meanwhile, along with Justin, assisted one very tired warlock back to first his (the prince's) chambers then cautiously back to Gaius' chambers, careful not to stray into any unchecked corridors. If Uther noticed the late arrival of his son to the council meeting, he made no mention of it.

Sadly, Tywysog and Mordwywr were executed for the crime of, uh, sorcery.

The End

**a/n: The title is taken from the quotation, "Having a family is like giving hostages to fortune." Although Merlin and Arthur are not related in the show (or this story), in some versions of the legend, Merlin is the child of Ambrosius Aurelianus, Uther's older brother and Arthur's uncle, making Merlin and Arthur cousins.**


End file.
